by Lynn, Donina
Becca brought her attention back to Anne. She had come to the hospital that night and had never left her side. She had been there as Becca struggled to pick up the pieces and put what was left of her life back together again. Anne had given her strength when she didn’t have any, and even now, she was still more concerned with hurting Becca’s feelings than her own.
Becca didn’t want anything to come between Anne and her happiness. She had worried enough about Becca and should be focused on enjoying the gift that she and Josh had been given.
“Anne, you need to stop over-thinking everything. I want to be there.”
Anne looked up at her with her big brown hopeful eyes. “Really? You’re sure?”
Becca patted her hand and stood to move back to the mirror. “Yes, I’m positive. Anyway, if we find out that it’s going to be a boy you’re going to need backup when you tell Josh you want to name his son Junior.”
“He is so going to freak. I can’t wait to tell him. I’m hoping for a nice fight so we can have makeup sex.” Anne waggled her eyebrows and chuckled.
Shaking her head, Becca scoffed at her friend. “Anne, you’re incorrigible. You have to be the only person I know that hopes for a fight.”
“What? Make up sex is H.O.T. It’s so grrrr … How do you think I got this way? The last time we fought he flipped me over and...”
Becca put her hand up. “Stop! I so don’t need to know how Josh had you all twisted up. Can you get your mind off of sex for a minute? I seriously need to vent about how I have to find a new gown and how I really don’t want to go to Victoria’s New Year’s Eve Masquerade Wedding Reception.”
Anne laughed and smiled at Becca. “Sorry, can’t help it. This whole pregnancy thing has my libido in overdrive. Why don’t you want to go to the party? It sounds like a fun time.”
Becca sighed and ran her hands down the dress. Anne had always been the outgoing and adventurous one. She grabbed onto opportunity when it presented itself and had always been willing to go to new places or try new things.
Becca was different. She never considered herself shy or naïve, but she liked the familiar whether it was with people or staying within her small town she called home. A night out was usually grabbing a drink at Frank’s Bar and dancing to some country tunes playing out of the juke box. That was a good time to Becca. She knew what to expect, and it was simple. Exactly the way she liked it.
“It’s New York City on New Year’s Eve. It’s going to be chaos. I’m uncomfortable already, and I’m not even there.” Becca put her hand on her stomach to calm the uneasy feeling that suddenly settled there. “I’m nauseated just thinking about all those people in that setting. Who has a masquerade party as a wedding reception, anyway? Wait, sorry, it’s not a reception. According to the invitation, it’s a gala.”
“Now who’s over-thinking things? There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s a party where you get to dress up, nothing more.” Becca could see Anne shrug in the reflection of the mirror. “It’s Vicky’s third marriage. I’m not Ms. Wedding Etiquette, but I’m guessing at number three you can do whatever the hell you want. I think asking for donations for the Inner City Battered Women’s Shelter in lieu of presents is a nice gesture.”
Becca snorted before she could stop it. “It’s not Vicky, remember? That’s too common. It’s Victoria. Yeah, the donations seem generous, but what could she possibly need or want as gift at this point? It’s not that she isn’t able to keep up her Prada and Jimmy Choo lifestyle with the divorce settlements from the first two husbands. Victoria lives to be in the spotlight, and I’m guessing she will use it for publicity with every news agency in the city being there to take pictures.”
Anne lifted her eyebrows at Becca through the reflection. “Wow, catty much? You really don’t like her, do you? She is your cousin, Becca. You two grew up together.”
“I think that’s the problem.” Becca sighed and remembered how she and Victoria would spend their days together. They would climb trees in the back yard, run barefoot through the mud puddles, and pick flowers out of the fields. They were inseparable and exactly alike in almost every way.
“I guess I just miss who she was and who we were. She’s changed into someone I don’t have anything in common with, and even talking with her is difficult. She lives in a totally different world than I do, and it’s one that I don’t want any part. The only reason I’m going is because Mom had insisted and dragged me to the first two weddings. She kept telling me that no matter how people change, family is always family. She would want me to be there.”
At the mention of Becca’s mom, Anne looked at her picture on the nightstand. “I miss her. She was such a great person.” She turned back to Becca. “Have you been out to the house lately?”
Becca glanced at the picture of her mom. It had been close to a year since her mom had passed away, and there wasn’t a day that she didn’t wish she was still there to talk to or hear her laugh.
“I went out last week. I still can’t make a decision on whether or not to put it up for sale. This apartment is small, but the house is just too big and empty without her.” Becca shrugged, then smiled. “You can’t beat my commute to work here, though. Considering I never can get up on time, at least here I can just stumble down the steps. Can you imagine if I lived out there? Your chocolate chip, walnut, and raisin pumpkin muffins would never get made.”
“You made them.” Anne sat up excited. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Against my better baker’s judgment, yes, I made you a batch. They’re in the fridge down in the shop.” She turned around to face Anne and placed her hands on her hips. “Just know that if the cravings get any weirder and you ask me to make something with pickles or sardines in it, I’m totally drawing the line.”
Anne wrinkled her nose at Becca. “That won’t happen. Pickles make me want to vomit. But, oh goody I can’t wait to scarf up those muffins. I’m grabbing a couple on my way out today. That reminds me. Do you still want me to watch the shop when you go to this gala?” Anne emphasized the last word and laughed when Becca scowled at her.
“Yes, please and thank you, and since we are back on the topic—when do want to go shopping with me for a new gown?”
“Not that I don’t enjoy watching your misery when I drag you from store to store, but why don’t you want to wear the one you got? You look beautiful.”
“Have you seen this and this?” Becca pointed at her chest and then to the hem of the dress. “I would never wear something this short or revealing normally. You know that. I don’t look anything like me.”
Anne shook her head. “That’s the point, Becca. It’s a masquerade party. You’re not supposed to be yourself. It’s an opportunity to put on a mask and be whoever you want to be for the night. Nobody is going to know you. You’re the only person going from our town. Go, and have a good time.”Anne waggled her eyebrows. “In fact, I think you should embrace that inner vixen that I know you have in you and get a little black-tie action for the night.”
Becca laughed. “Have I told you that you’re incorrigible? I haven’t embraced anything in a long time. I’ve given up on dating, remember?”
“Who said anything about dating? Find a hot guy in a tux and have some fun for the night. It’s New Year’s Eve. Maybe then more than one ball will be dropping in New York City that night.”
Becca shook her head laughing as she watched Anne stand up and start moving toward the door.
“I have to get home and make dinner for Josh, wifely duties and all that. I brought that clutch purse for you. It will go perfectly with the gown, and I left a surprise inside, just in case.”
Following her out into the kitchen, Becca asked quickly before Anne could escape out of the apartment. “What surprise and what about shopping?”
Anne turned the handle to the apartment door and slipped into the hallway. “Nope, you’re stuck with the dress. It’s for your own good. Just remember to embrace and enjoy.”
Becca closed the door smiling and turned to grab the clutch off the table. What was Anne up to? Opening it, she found a new box of condoms. She closed the purse and laughed. “Incorrigible.”
Chapter Three
Nick sat a table against a wall in the ballroom of the Queen Marie hotel. When his father had bought the old hotel, he had named it after his mother and given her the task of overseeing the renovations. She had seen its potential and worked to transform it from run-down to one of the most sought after and luxurious hotels in the city.
Only five at the time, Nick had been young, but he could still remember that his parents were happy then. They held a partnership, both private and in business, built on respect and love.
That all changed when Hollsten Holdings became more successful and profitable. With each purchase, his father became more obsessed with the company and his next dollar. He turned into the distant father that Nick could remember the most. The money and power had changed him, and that was one of the reasons Nick never wanted to follow in his footsteps. One of his biggest fears was turning into his father.
Nick had done a damn good job at avoiding “his responsibility” as his father stated for most of his years at home. He smiled at the memory of his father’s face when he had walked into his office twelve years ago. Nick had told him he wasn’t going to get groomed to take over, didn’t want to be anything like him and that he was joining the Army. It was one of the few times that Nick could remember his father being speechless.
Before his father could have answered, he had turned around, walked out the door and out of his father’s life. A few hours later he was on a plane to basic training and the start of his military career. He had never once regretted his decision … until Jack.
Enough! Forcing the thoughts out of his head in frustration, he glanced at his watch. It was 10 o’clock. Was it too early to leave? Nick drained his beer and decided he had been there long enough. He had done the necessary smile and nods to everyone who had come along. Hell, he even made small-talk to some of the girls Victoria had introduced to him. She was obviously trying to hook him up with one of her friends. Nick grunted. The last thing he wanted or needed was a relationship.
He was happy with no attachments. The nights that he had taken a woman home they were gone the next day. He was always honest about what he was looking for up-front. There were no promises, no strings, and no complications. He had enough shit floating and rambling around in his head. He didn’t need to add anything or anyone else into the mess that currently was his life.
Nick got up and started weaving through the tables to find Brad and Victoria. He had enough time to give his well wishes, make his way to the club, and find someone to bring in the New Year. He smiled at the thought. The best way to end one year and start a new one was in bed with a warm, soft body.
He nodded at those who were seated at tables and then started to make his way around the crowded dance floor. Scanning the area, he spotted Brad talking to the sound guy for the band. Nick walked up behind him to wait until he was done.
Brad was talking loudly over the latest Dean Martin song that the lead singer was trying to cover. Nick chuckled. Victoria definitely had her own style, and Nick knew his metal-head cousin had nothing to do with the music selection.
“Can you let the band know that my wife would like to do the presentation to the Women’s Shelter in about an hour? By then, the press should be here.”
Nick caught the end of the conversation and thought his timing to leave couldn’t be more perfect with the newspapers on the way. The sound guy nodded, and Brad patted the guy on the back before turning around to find Nick waiting with a smug look on his face.
Brad took the few steps towards him. “What’s so amusing?”
Nick put his arm around Brad’s shoulders and started leading him away from the stage where they didn’t have to yell to be heard.
“Have I told you how stunning you look this evening? But isn’t it a fashion faux pas to be wearing white after Labor Day?” Nick chuckled.
Brad snapped his fingers in diva fashion. “That rule is so yesterday, darling.”
“Now I know what you meant about standing out.” Nick shook his head. A white tuxedo wouldn’t have been his first choice.
Brad shrugged. “It was Victoria’s idea. She was worried we might blend in with the crowd with the masks.”
“Well there is no danger of that happening.” Nick slapped him on the back. He didn’t doubt Brad’s wife would have many more suggestions throughout their marriage. Brad was obviously happy though, and wanted to make his bride happy, too.
Nick thought, better him than me.
“Congratulations again, Brad. I wish you nothing but happiness.” Nick held out his hand, and Brad grabbed it for the shake. He put his other hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a half hug.
“Thanks for everything, Nick.” Brad nodded his head toward the door. “You should get out of here before Victoria gives her speech. She’s going to name the bigger donations and ask them to stand up and de-mask. Considering the amount you gave, you might want to be out of the here before that happens.”
“Thanks, I owe you one.” Nick turned on his heels and started to make a dash for the door. He didn’t get very far before he was brought to a halt by a vision walking into the ballroom.
The woman was beautiful with soft features, creamy skin and lush lips that begged to be kissed. Her long chestnut brown hair flowed past her shoulders and reached down to full breasts. Even from across the room, he could tell they could easily cradle a man’s head for hours. His gaze continued lower past her flat stomach, the flair of her hips and ended at a pair of long, shapely legs that were made to be wrapped around a man’s waist.
There was no denying how much Nick wanted to be that man as he burned a trail back up the length of her body slowly eating up every delicious inch. He wanted to know if she tasted as good as she looked, and he groaned inside when he envisioned spreading her legs to find out. His balls tightened, and cock twitched in agreement to the thoughts running through his mind.
Suddenly needing a drink to distract him and settle the stirring that was happening between his legs, Nick once again turned on his heels. This time he went in the direction of the bar. The beautiful vision was all curves, all woman, and exactly what Nick was looking for in New Year’s celebration.
****
Becca stood at the French doors that led to the ballroom. She could hear the music drifting through, and she took a deep breath trying to build up the nerve to go inside. She just couldn’t seem to get past the jumble of nerves that had settled in her stomach.
Becca wished her mom was there. She always could make the situations that made her feel uneasy more bearable. Her mother had an uncanny ability to adapt to any environment and talk to strangers as if they were lifelong friends. She was that extra jolt of confidence Becca needed, and with her even the last two receptions had been almost enjoyable.
Geez, just open the doors already. What was she going to do? Turn around and go back home? It was time to put her big girl panties on and stop being such a wimp. She had come this far, and it was already late.
The day had gotten away from her, and what she wanted to accomplish before leaving had taken longer than she expected. It had started with getting up late and had progressively turned to crap. She had burnt the cookies for the safe New Year’s Eve party sponsored by the City Council and had to throw the batch out to start over. In her rush, she had knocked a glass over shattering it on the kitchen floor. While cleaning up the broken pieces, she had cut her finger, and the only bandages she could find were Scooby-Doo Band-Aids that she kept in the shop for kids’ “boo-boos”. That unexpected accessory added a certain elegance and charm to her gown. Not!
All of the delays had caused her to take a later bus, which was full of drunken partiers—destination Times Square for the ball drop. The highlight of her ride into the city was sitting next to a large sweaty man with bad brea
th who had kept leaning in to hit on her the entire two hours.
The taxi ride from the terminal had been no better with the craziness that seemed to be on every street. By the time she had made it to the hotel, she was tired, frustrated, and more than annoyed.
When she got to the front desk to check-in, the doors to the Grand Ballroom were directly across from the lobby, and she could hear the clinking of dishes coming from the party that had already started. She didn’t want to walk in while dinner was being served. Arriving then would cause everyone to notice her entrance, and the thought of all those eyes on her made her stomach do summersaults. So, she had gotten her key and gone up to the room taking her time to get changed.
Her crappy day had put her mood in the toilet. The perfect ending was now being somewhere she didn’t want to be, with people she didn’t know, and in all likelihood, didn’t want to know.
Becca gave herself a mental shake. She was over-thinking again. There was no rule that she had to stay the whole night or be a social butterfly. All she had to do was make an appearance.
Ok, the plan is to find Victoria, then the bar, and then slip out in an hour. Perfect. With the time limit set and the thought of a strong drink or two, she had enough encouragement to put on a smile, a fake one, but it was a smile nonetheless, and pushed open the doors.
Grand was an accurate description for the ballroom. Becca stood on a marble landing with steps that led down the main floor. The white marble covered the entire room with pillars reaching to the ceiling on both sides. Rows and rows of tables were to the right lined up in front of a mammoth fireplace built into the wall. In the center, each of the tables had an enormous glass vase and colorful bouquet that was high enough where people seated could see across without the flowers being an obstacle. The tops of the tables were covered in black and gold linens, and the hotel staff was busy collecting gold cutlery that had been left behind by the guests.